


My own personal hell

by nickhellagay



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Javert's Confused Boner, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow build-ish?, i will fix typos and errors i swear, why is there even a tag dedicated to javert's boner christ
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-16
Updated: 2014-04-16
Packaged: 2018-01-19 15:52:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1475479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nickhellagay/pseuds/nickhellagay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Javert is pretty certain that if there is a God above, he must really hate him. His suspicions are only confirmed when he is forced to tutor the newest addition to his shit-list; that guy who broke the rules of no running in the halls and knocked him over.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My own personal hell

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kaleran](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaleran/gifts).



> This fic is a fill for tumblr user Kaleran's prompt which went a little like this: "Javert's a hall monitor in high school. He has to tutor Valjean in whatever subject, and they hate eachother, but then they fall in love and run off into the sunset"
> 
> So because I really love Valvert, and I really love high school AUS and really love kaleran, this happened.
> 
> May God have mercy on my soul.

Javert sighs deeply, running a hand through his hair as he restlessly paces through the halls of _Lycée du Musain_. The dark brown locks are getting too long and the fringe keeps blocking out his vision. He desperately needs a new haircut, but after a couple of unexpected expenses, he needs the rest of his scholarship to pay the rent for the next month.

For the umpteenth time, he plays with the idea of getting a job but shoots down the idea at once. He is swamped with his courses and required extra-curricular activities. With this newly obtained status as a hall monitor, Javert is already stretching his schedule as it is. He probably shouldn't spend the little free time in school on monitoring, but he needs all the service hours he can get to finish CAS as quickly as possible. And it looks good on his resume. If there is one thing Javert can’t wait with, it’s to get into university instead of this sad excuse for a high school, and attending  _le Baccalauréat International_  is his way to ensure he graduates with a bang and gets a hella good resume at the same time.

His thoughts are rudely interrupted by the familiar sound of footsteps hurrying too fast through the corridor. “Oi, no running through the—“ The next thing he knows, Javert finds himself on the floor, his face full of another person and at least a dozen books.

“Christ, I’m so sorry!”

He looks up to find the other person already on his feet, stretching out a hand to help him up.

The boy seems to be about his age, slightly taller and with an unruly mop of chestnut curls framing his face. He has warm, brown eyes and a fading bruise plastering his right cheek. He’s ridiculously attractive and Javert can’t stop himself from taking in all the details, from the awkward grin to the broad shoulders and muscular arms peeking out from the rolled-up shirtsleeves.

Realizing he has been staring way too long, Javert gets up, ignoring the still outstretched hand and the uneasy fluttering in his stomach. Coolly, he brushes dust of his blazer and firmly catches the other youth’s glance. “Running in the halls is strictly forbidden, and I’m afraid I’ll have to report this incident to the headmaster.”

The boy’s smile falters. “But there’s nobody here! And I was running late. Hell, I didn't even know there was rule against that, I mean, this is high school!” In one swift motion, he picks up the remaining books, an impressing feat considering the amount and weight of them. Javert himself had to walk two trips to his locker on the first day of school to gather all his books for this year.

Javert shakes his head, partly to clear his mind and regain his focus from the impact. “I’m afraid rules still are rules, and that you’ll have to come with me to the headmaster’s office. “

“But it’s my first day of school!”

“Even better for you to get your ass upstairs to the office, so you get the set of rules the school library must have failed to assign you!” Javert retorts, his patience wearing off.

The ridiculously attractive boy sighs. “Fine… At least let me put these into my locker?” He makes a shrugging motion, clearly referring to the dozen books. Javert is still a little impressed that the boy is able to take them all in one go and can’t help but notice that they appear to have a somewhat similar subject combination.

“Okay, I suppose it would not hurt…” Javert follows the boy down the hall, where he stops, just as it happens, next to Javert’s own locker. The hall monitor suppresses a groan at the thought of having to see this twat and his disregard for rules every day for the next two years.

A swift five minutes later, they're approaching principal Myriel's office. The boy is about to knock at the large wooden door when a sudden realization dawns upon Javert. Quickly, he grasps the raised arm before the other student can knock. "Wait! You can't face the _proviseur_ like that!" Javert hisses. He drops the arm and realizes to his horror that he is blushing, barey, but a blush nonetheless.

"And why is that?" the boy replies icily, rubbing the wrist Javert had grasped so harshly.

Javert sighs, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. "Because you're violating the dress code! I won't let you in before you're presentable for _Proviesur_ Myriel." _Not that you're not looking mighty damn fine already,_ he snidely adds in his mind.

"But..."

"No buts!" Javert snaps, interrupting the protest. "Roll down your sleeves and tie your tie!" He glares at the tie, which the boy has carelessly hung untied over his shoulders, determined not to give into the temptation of ogling the other student's well toned arms.

Said student sighs in defeat as he rolls down his shirtsleeves, before reaching up to his tie. "I... Uh.. I'm sorry, I don't know how to... I went to public school all my life, so I've no idea ..." He has the nerve to grin apologetically at Javert, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.

If there is a God above, he must utterly hate him. That's the only explanation Javert has to why he is sharing locker space with a ninny; with a complete disregard for proper dress code, and who doesn't even know how to tie his own tie. "By the stars..." he mutters under his breath as he, after a moment of hesitation, approaches the other student while avoiding eye contact. In a matter of seconds, with rehearsed movements, Javert has neatly fixed the tie. He takes a step back to look over the boy. The slightly more refined look does not to anything to distract from his obnoxiously good looks. Not a bit.

"Tell anyone I did this, and I swear to God I'll end you," Javert growls. The boy nods furiously, beet red with embarrassment. Not wanting to delay it anymore, Javert knocks at the door.  
  
" _Entrez!"_

Javert opens the doors and enters, the boy following close behind him. 

Headmaster Myriel's office is spacious, but sparingly decorated. Apart from a few diplomas and a generously filled bookshelf, there is not much covering the walls. The only objects catching Javert's attention are two silver candlestick residing on a small table at the other end of the room. It is Myriel's desk and two chairs in front of it who occupy most of the space in the room. The man himself is sitting serenely behind the desk, regarding the two boys kindly. "Ah, Javert, my boy!" he exclaims, smiling as Javert nods politely in response. The headmaster motions for both of them to sit down. "I see you've met our newest student already! Jean Valjean will be attending your BI class from tomorrow on!"  
  
 _Just my luck, eh?_ "I caught him running in the halls just ten minutes ago, _Proviseur,_ " Javert replies. In the corner of his eye, he catches the boy- Valjean shifting awkwardly in his seat. 

Myriel chuckles at the reply. "Did he now?" He turns his head to address Valjean. "You better watch out for Javert here, lad, he takes his duties as hall monitor quite seriously." He smiles widely. clearly attempting to get the new student to loosen up. Myriel was always too kind and informal towards his students, Javert thinks for himself. 

The principal proceeds to pick up a folder of paper which he flips quickly through. "Well, Jean, I've looked through your file which your previous school has sent me, and it all seems to be in order. Despite that little, ah, incident..." His eyes linger on Valjean's bruise for a moment. "Which is forgiven and forgotten here, I believe you will settle into the system just fine." 

"Thank you, _Proviseur_ Myriel, I hope I will," Valjean pipes up, smiling widely at the principal. 

"There is one matter, however, that I would like to settle right away," Myriel continues. "Now, I've looked through your grades from your pre-BI classes last year, which are all above the average. That is, apart from your pre-Chemistry. Jean, I strongly advice you to find you a tutor. The Chemistry course is highly demanding even at standard level, and with your higher levels in French, English and Theatre, all which requires a lot of reading..."  
  
 _Merde! Of course we have to share two higher levels! And Chemistry as well! Just how many subjects do we have together?_

Valjean nodds slowly. "I've thought about it myself, and to be honest, I really could use a tutor."  
  
Myriel throws a glance in Javert's direction, which does not go unnoticed by the hall monitor.  _Dear God in Heaven, please don't suggest what I think you'll suggest..._  
  
"Javert, I hate to ask of this of you, with your schedule and all..."  
  
Javert groans inwardly. 

"... but you're the only one in Chemistry class with above average grades who is not already tutoring a student." And with a good reason, Javert thinks. He hates his peers, and would do almost anything not having to take on a student. But he can't refuse any request from _Proviseur_ Myriel. It wouldn't be just, not when the principal has been generous with him, helping him gain scholarships that made his life a lot easier.

He sighs, dreading what may come out of this. "Alright,  _Proviseur._ I'll do it." 

Javert has a feeling all service points in the world will not make up for his misery at this moment.  _  
_

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not even remotely sorry.


End file.
